Ascension
by Hearts' Abyss
Summary: It all started with a repetitive noise that flew out of a boy's nightmares and into real life, bringing a break in the status quo along with it. But sometimes, monotony and the mind's dark eye are far more preferable to the chaotic reality lurking outside, waiting for a chance to strike... especially when death lurks nearby and the only path to life is up. [TO BE POSTED ON AO3]
1. Droplet

_**A/N:** In accordance with my general (and somewhat unfortunate) trend of writing something angsty, tragic or horror-centric for my first fic in a fandom, I have decided to upload this story into the Naruto fandom, rather than the sweeter (and incomplete) oneshots loitering in my folders. Due to the general content of this story and the obvious differences in the canon world and this alternate world, Naruto is not going to be the bright ball of sunshine he normally is, but most of the characters will stay (relatively) in-character, or as in-character as they can given their circumstances. This is also a rampant plot-bunny, so expect irregular updates as my interest in this wanes and waxes._

 _Before I start, I should warn everyone that this is rated M because it contains violence, swearing, supernatural elements, generally disturbing imagery and darker characters. Be warned- this is not going to be a fic where everyone skips through flower fields and dances around rainbows (so press that 'back' button now if you want a tame Naruto story). There may be (minor) romantic scenes, but those will most likely be dark and get delegated to a site where I won't get warnings for explicit material.  
I do not own the characters of Naruto (which are Masashi Kishimoto's), the general setting, taken from Tower of God (which is SIU's) or the various horror elements I'll be pulling from famous (and not so famous) horror movies, books and/or manga. The only thing I own is the idea which melds all these elements, and nothing more.  
There will be eventual SasuNaru, for anyone who likes/dislikes that pairing, and other pairings may appear depending on how this story goes.  
...And that's all, I think._

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 **~ Chapter One [A Single Droplet] ~**

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 _Every time he closed his eyes, he always saw the same old things– yet, no matter how many times he'd seen it before, there was no stopping the rush of fear that spiked through his heart and drowned him in a flood of terror. Was there a name to the things which stalked people through their nightmares? Perhaps there was, in some fancy scholarly text that he would never be able to access, but to him it was nothing more than a nameless, age-old fear._

 _Though, at times, he wished there was something more concrete to the darkness permeating his fitful sleep._

 _He knew how it would go, of course; he knew it with the certainty that he'd die if he held his breath for more than five minutes on end. At first, he would turn frantically around, seeking the nameless terror stalking him in his nightmares. He would relax, then, thinking that he had escaped the nightmare for the first time in waking (or was it sleeping?) memory, but a blink of his eyes would dispel that naïve notion. Because then, instead of darkness, he would see a pair of glowing red eyes._

 _And instead of relief, he would feel the terror seep into his bones until he could no longer move, for fear of being devoured by the insanity glittering alluringly before him._

" _Come to me, boy," the nameless terror would growl, as two rows of pearly white teeth would appear in a flash, mocking all that was good and wholesome with its false smile. "You know you want my power… don't you?"_

 _He would shake his head –or, at least, try to, since his neck would never obey him– but the nameless terror would always,_ always _laugh, showing a crimson tongue waggling scornfully behind those serrated teeth. No noise would escape his lips, because his larynx would be constricted so tightly that moving it was an absolute impossibility, and he would be left to watch the thing laugh, and laugh, and laugh until the only noise he knew was that awful, derisive laughter._

" _Aww, are you scared?" the nameless terror would purr then, narrowing its glowing red eyes in fake concern so that only twin slivers would show. "You don't need to be afraid of me, not when we've been so very close for so very long. C'mon, little kit; don't you know who I am? I could show you wondrous things if you'll just give me one_ little _thing in return."_

 _Again, he would try to shake his head… but, again, his neck would refuse to obey him. He didn't know what this was and he certainly didn't want to know what he'd have to yield up in return. He was alone with a nameless terror in the dark, with nothing except pure fear coursing through his veins, so what could he possibly have that would appease this terrifying thing?_

" _You have what I want, you know," the nameless terror would hum, as if it could read his mind and see the secrets he tried to hide in the dark. "That fluttering thing in your chest… I don't have that, but you do. So what do you say, boy? Why don't you give me your heart and I'll give you my power in return?"_

 _Finally, the rigor in his body would unlock and he would be able to move– but, instead of shaking his head or running away, like his instincts screamed at him to do, he would find himself… nodding. Why would he nod when he liked his heart in his chest and liked being his small and insignificant self? He would try to rectify his mistake, but then it would always be too late by then. He would try to flee, but he was simply too sluggish, too malnourished and too terrified to move more than three puny steps._

" _Oh no, kit; you're mine now…" the nameless terror would cackle maniacally, and he'd feel something cold and sharp move delicately across his torso. "Now, why don't you turn around and give up like the good little boy you aren't?"_

 _And then, in those final few moments, as those piercing red eyes grew larger and larger in his vision and the pearly white teeth opened up to reveal something that undulated hideously behind, he would open his mouth and scream. But nothing –not his screaming or his flailing or his begging or his crying– would stop the nameless terror from bringing him into his mouth. He would be submerged in darkness again, but this darkness would be far different from the one he was accustomed to._

 _Because this darkness… this darkness had nobody inside._

 _And then he'd slowly get driven insane by the steady 'drip, drip, drip' that replaced the absent thump-thump of his heart…_

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The first thing he saw, as his eyes shot open and the unforgiving darkness of his mind gave way to the relative darkness outside, was the faint play of shadows on the grime-streaked floor. The only times he saw light were when someone came to give him food or water, but those times were often few and far between– so to see the shadows grow stronger in the brown and green illuminated by the light was odd, to say the least. Did someone come to take his plate away earlier because someone else had done something with the flimsy paper they served his meals in? Or was there some other reason… something to do with the faint dripping noise emanating from a corner of his room?

"Oi, creep!" The light grew brighter as it approached his room and he cast his eyes downwards, afraid to look into the yellow-white thing that singed his eyes and left disorientating after-images in its wake, minutes after it'd disappeared from his wavering view. It was probably why, whenever someone visited with a light, he would only see the tips of well-polished boots wallowing in the muck lurking on the floor. "Hey, I'm talking to you, you little fucker! Look at me when I talk to you or you'll get it, you hear?!"

Although he didn't want to look up –not when that evil yellow-white light might burn his eyes– he had no choice but to let his gaze drift from the now-scuffed boots to pressed trousers, a slightly sweat-soaked shirt and, finally, a pair of steely eyes boring holes into his own. Thankfully, he hadn't caught the light as he'd refocused his attention, but the spittle flying from the man's lips and the whites showing clearly in his eyes made him wish that he could've continued to look at his boots instead.

At least, when he was staring down, he didn't have to see the fear he could smell rolling off these people in thick, cloying waves.

"Freak!" the man yelled again, and he blinked his dull blue eyes at the man to show that he was listening. "I hope you enjoyed your fucking meal, because you're not getting anything until tomorrow!"

"Whoa, hang on a moment!" His voice sounded scratchy and raw, even to his own ears, but what could he expect when he hadn't used it for days (or months– it was hard to tell the time when his waking moments were bathed in twilight) and he'd only just woken up? "What do you mean, I won't get fed?"

"You don't get to ask the fucking questions, brat!" the man yelled, his harsh voice ringing around in his small confines. It was all he can do to prevent himself from curling into a tight ball and block his ears from the noise and the unwelcome burst of pain it'd brought. "If we say you don't get food, you just don't _get_ any food! So suck it up, freak, or you'll get it later, you hear?!"

He was too tired to argue with a man that had no sense, not when it was clear that arguing with him would get him no food or anything else of value, so he simply curled up into a ball and watched blearily as the man glared at him and grunted, seemingly appeased with whatever he saw. With a barely-there sigh of relief, his eyes trailed after the man as he left, taking the too-bright yellow-white of his light and the cloying scent of his fear with him, before he slumped against the filthy wall and sighed again. It was easier for him to breathe again, now that the man's confusing smells were no longer screwing with his mind… but there was nothing to permeate his living darkness and no barrier to stop the steady drip-dripping noise that emanated from somewhere in his room.

Where was it coming from, though? He tilted his head, squinting into the darkness to see if he could find a faint glint that might betray the liquid splashing on his floor, but he could see no tell-tale glimmer… because there was no light to give him any. In that moment, as it became clear that the man's previous light might've been able to help, he cursed his stupidity for letting that man go. Now, there would be no way that anyone would come with a light when the man had made it clear all contact would be severed for the day.

But that meant he'd be stuck here, then, listening to the drips as they became syncopated with his heartbeat and then, slowly but surely, synchronised with it.

And then it didn't take very long at all for the drips to supersede the faint beat fluttering in his ears.

 _Drip._

 _Drip._

How long had it been since that man was here?

 _Drip._

 _Drip._

Did he dare to move his legs after all this time?

 _Drip._

 _Drip._

Would the ground collapse beneath him if he dared to move?

 _Drip._

 _Drip._

…How long had it been since that infernal dripping started?

All his unanswerable questions bled away, though, as surely as the steady drip-dripping noise overwhelmed his conscious mind, his beating heart and anything else of fleeting significance in his being. No matter how hard he fought to hear something other than that deceptively soothing sound, he could not shake off its exorable rhythm, drilling barren nothingness into his soul. Because there was nothing other than that dripping in this room, where nothing other than the filth on the floor (probably) lived and breathed with him.

Perhaps, if he'd known that the dripping noise had only started minutes earlier, before he'd woken up, the boy known as Naruto might have been shocked by its short yet powerful impact on him.

But for now, as he curled in on himself, his eyes stared dully into the darkness as he lost himself in the repetitive, soul-draining sound.

 _Drip._

 _Drip._

 _Drip._

 _._

 _._

 _._

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 _If you've got any thoughts/queries on the story, feel free to send a review or a PM. I won't say it's mandatory... but just know that the more feedback I get, the more motivated I'll be to write (;_

 **[** Last edited : 17th of June, 2015 **]**


	2. Ripple

_**A/N:** I should probably mention that this story is a pretty large mix in terms of its genres (supernatural and suspense will feature most prominently, but other themes that will commonly appear include mystery, horror and humour, among other things) and that the normal parts are Naruto's waking moments, while the italicized parts are his sleeping moments, for those that haven't picked up on it. If you see mistakes, feel free to tell me because I'm not exactly my best editor- and if you're interested in beta-ing this story, then shoot me a message. If things don't immediately make sense, it's probably because they're food for thought or little things that I'll explain as the story progresses. But enough of me rambling; I might as well let you all get on with the story._

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 **~ Chapter Two [A Fleeting Ripple] ~**

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A grumbling noise echoed in the too-small room and, though its sound was a familiar and oft-heard one, Naruto took a few seconds to shake off the lethargy clawing at his conscious before he could identify its source. True to the man's words, he hadn't been visited by anyone bearing barely-edible food or a plethora of curses, but now he wished that the man had been lying.

If only because he didn't want to bear this darkness alone.

Normally, when the wardens came to deliver food or a small plastic cup of water, Naruto would wait patiently in his corner until they left, taking their horrible lights and sickly-sweet fear with them. He would pretend that he was asleep, catatonic or otherwise unresponsive, so that they would stop cursing him and simply push his nourishment through the rust-caked bars of his room. Then, when they left and only a shadow of light was left, he would bound forward, snatching up the food and drink before everything was bathed in darkness again, and console himself with whatever they'd seen fit to give him. So, by the time they came back, the plastic containers would always be far cleaner than the mess surrounding it on the floor, for Naruto had long since given up on scorning the questionable things they fed him with.

But now, as he cradled the empty plate the last man had given him to his chest, he cursed the hunger that had made him wolf down his food in large, greedy bites. Although the food was hardly something which a typical diner might enjoy, Naruto wasn't exactly picky when the only thing on the menu was whatever the wardens served him. The revulsion that came with swallowing down the grainy lumps of questionable substance had all but died down as the years had gone by, when his overwhelming hunger had trumped what little pride he had left.

After all, pride wasn't going to fill the cavernous nothing that was his stomach. And besides, what use would it be when he died and his stomach was nothing more than a shrivelled mess of skin and acid, shrunken into an unrecognisable lump in his body?

The thought of dying caused a shudder to course down his spine and, in an effort to preserve what little body heat he had left, Naruto placed the plate on the floor before he tightly curled up. However, no matter how hard he tried to clamp his hands over his ears, he couldn't block out the steady dripping noise emanating from some part of his room.

He had thought of finding the source of the leak before, in the long moments between the man leaving him in the dark and his stomach rousing him from his half-waking reverie. Once upon a time, when Naruto had first resided within his room, it had taken him three long strides to move from one side to the other– but now, it only took him one step to traverse that same distance. The ceiling, which had been hopelessly out of reach when he'd been smaller, was now accessible with a powerful jump, but the grime liberally coating the room's floor had dissuaded him from reaching the ceiling. As much as he wished he could eliminate that monotonous and pervasive sound, he knew that there was no use in finding the leak when he could potentially end up with a broken back or a fractured limb.

Not when the warden had made it clear that he'd be alone for the next day or so.

A frown tugged insistently at Naruto's mouth at the thought of being alone for the next few hours, but what coaxed forth a troubled sigh and the insistent frown was the fact that he couldn't measure time in his small and ill-kempt room. He might be considered some sort of 'freak' in the wardens' minds but, no matter how freaky he was, there was no way he could tell the time with the sorry plastic container that once held his food, the small plastic cup half-filled with rust-flavoured water and the rags hanging limply off his malnourished form. And even if he could, how would he be able to see the time when he couldn't even see his hand wiggling in front of his face?

 _Man, I wish they'd bothered with a light in here…_ Naruto glumly thought, as he crossed his arms over his protruding knees and buried his face into them. In the depths of his mind, though, he knew that the wardens would never go to the trouble of providing creature comforts– not when they did such a piss-poor job of catering for his needs. If they couldn't cook things resembling normal human food, provide a semblance of conventional clothing for him to wear or give him somewhere to do his toiletries, then what chances were there of getting a light in this place? He could already imagine their derisive guffaws at his unvoiced question and the way they'd flippantly tell him to 'glow in the fucking dark, if you're so desperate for a light'.

Living alone and in the dark seriously sucked, big-time.

However, any further thoughts on the matter dissipated when something other than steady dripping and his stomach's intermittent complaints reached Naruto's ears. As his head shot up from his arms and he narrowed his eyes, futilely combing the darkness around him for the source of the odd noise, his mind attempted to figure out what the noise was. It hadn't helped that he'd been half-dead to everything around him, too occupied with his thoughts to care much for the tangible world, but the noise's fleeting presence hadn't helped much either. Now that he thought about it, he wasn't even sure if his mind was playing tricks on him or not.

For all he knew, he could've imagined someone cracking their fingers, farting politely or—

 _Crack._

—trying to… _okay, hold that thought…_

This time, there was no mistaking the noise for what it was, not when he felt something akin to a puff of air fan his left foot and found a few powdery bits of something not far from said foot. Although it was hard to determine what they were –Naruto was a tactile sort of person, but he didn't have super-senses that allowed him to identify things through touch alone– it was definitely different from the grime clinging stubbornly to his room's floor. There was a different sort of wetness in these powdery fragments to the slime he felt underfoot, but there was no way he would lick at it to determine what that wetness was. As _fun_ as diarrhoea was, he really didn't want to void what little his stomach had, and he could happily live the rest of his life without a burning arse plaguing his body.

 _So then…_ Naruto frowned, fingering the substance in between his hands. As far as he knew, his room was built from some sort of stone, but the stuff in his hand didn't match the gravelly texture digging into his back. It certainly didn't match the unsettlingly furriness of the lichen and moss colonies happily camping on his floors or walls, and it didn't feel like the partially-decomposed body of an unfortunate insect. So if it wasn't anything that he recognised, then what, exactly, was the thing in his hand? _And why did the ceiling cough it up?_

A wave of dizziness coursed through Naruto as he lurched to his feet but, after a few deep breaths and an unfortunate encounter with some half-dead lichen stuck to the nearby wall, he found himself standing upright in his room for the first time in just about forever. Most of the time, when he lunged for his food or somehow managed to wheedle his way out of his room, he would stay low and rarely, if ever, straighten his legs, so to stretch them now was a bit of a novelty for him. The cracks emitting from his knees had been a bit of a shocker, though, and the unexpected weight on his underdeveloped calves caused him to sway a little… but he was standing upright, which was an achievement in itself, and he couldn't suppress the triumphant grin tugging at his cheeks.

However, what little pride he'd felt at his somewhat pathetic accomplishment dwindled when he recalled exactly why he'd stood up. In fact, when he finally remembered that he was going to try and _jump_ with the barely-there muscles in his legs, his emotions fizzled into awkward embarrassment and the grin abruptly disappeared.

"Dammit," Naruto scratchily cursed, as his legs trembled beneath him.

Although it hurt to talk when he was as parched as he was famished, for he'd finished off what little water he'd been given a fair while ago, the steady dripping was starting to get to him and he was damned if he succumbed to its hypnotic presence again. Besides, there was nothing like an impromptu pep-talk to bolster his spirits and get him moving– even if said pep-talk was comprised of a single profane word and an awkward silence trailing after it. It sucked to be alone in the dark, where his only company were questionably sentient lichen and moss (he'd swear to their creeping around, because what else would explain the disappearance of furry wetness under his stationary feet?), but at least he wasn't mute or insane.

Though, sometimes, he was quite sure he'd plunge off the deep end sooner or later.

"Okay… it's now or never," Naruto shakily breathed out, as his legs finally stopped trembling and his eyes drifted, sightlessly, to the ceiling above. "Jumping in three… two… one…"

However, what he'd envisioned as a graceful leap upwards became anything but when his leg twisted awkwardly underneath him and his hand scraped against the wall which'd been serving as his crutch, rather than the ceiling he'd been aiming for. As a sharp pain bloomed on his hand and something warm and wet trickled down his arm, Naruto gritted his teeth and cursed his luck, his solitude and those stupid, stupid guards, before another sharp pain sliced through his head…

…and imaginary stars lulled him into a reluctant yet oddly painless sleep.

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 _It was dark again, just like he'd expected it to be._

 _There was a steady dripping noise echoing from somewhere behind him, like there always was, and Naruto half-expected gleaming red eyes to open and go through the motions, terrifying him and boring him all at once. The fact that he'd been forced into his mind meant that he was somewhat more alert than usual, but his mind was still addled enough so that, when red eyes finally appeared, he could only stare transfixed at the lazy black dot spinning around in them._

 _...Wait, since when did his nightmare's eyes have lazy black dots in them?_

 _As a frown deepened on his face and he quirked a brow at the rather odd intrusion in his dreams, a smaller (and somewhat more insignificant) part of his mind realized that the lazy black dots had tails on them, and promptly decided to rename said lazy black dots 'tadpoles' instead. It also noticed the somewhat dull presence of teeth, though there were far dimmer than they usually were and generally didn't appear until partway through– but the larger part of his mind, the one fixated on the twin tadpoles swimming in identical pools of red, only noticed the disembodied words floating underneath them._

Be careful, Naruto.

 _What were these tadpoles, and how did they know his name?_

Not everything is what it seems to be. Stay alert, and stay on guard.

 _Well, it didn't take a genius to figure that out; if everything he saw was true, then he would've been eaten ages ago. Then again, did this message mean that he was supposed to watch out for other swimming tadpoles in pools of red? Or was it warning him about something else…?_

…And while you're at it, moron, pay attention to me.

 _Wow, a small part of his mind uttered dryly, that was rude and rather self-centred. Considering that these tadpoles were usurping his usual dream and imposing on his mind (though, for all he knew, some other twisted part of his subconscious had decided to hijack his sleeping moments for the time being), he'd say that_ they _were the ones who should pay attention to him. After all, this was supposed to be his mind and his subconscious._

Not quite, but we don't have time for that.

 _And now the tadpoles are conversing with me, too, he thought with a scowl. Great, just great; I've finally dived off the deep end and developed some sort of split personality or someth—_

If you're going to be an idiot then you'll have to do it in your own time, I'm afraid, since we're short on time. What I need to tell you should be easy enough for your puny brain to comprehend—

 _Hey, that was a low blow!_

—so stay focused and _listen_ to me.

 _Yeah, easier said than done. The words were flashing in front of his eyes, not being shouted into his ears, and even a supposed idiot like him knew that people read writing and listened to others talk, not the other way around._

…I'm going to ignore you and continue for the sake of my sanity. Look, you have to get out of your cell when you wake up, okay? The guards aren't going to come and save you so you're going to have to do things yourself, and if you don't get out then I can assure that you're going to die a horrible death. Believe me if you want to or ignore me, for all I care, but if you get out then I'll be waiting for you. You won't recognise me– in fact, it's questionable if you'll remember this conversation at all, knowing you– but if you remember anything at all, then remember to stay on your guard and trust nobody.

 _He didn't really understand these odd tadpoles, swimming in their pools of red (that he was half-certain was some potent alcoholic drink), but reading nonsensical words was a whole lot better than being swallowed alive, at the very least. Though, now that he thought about it, where exactly had his usual dream gone? And if this was his subconscious warning him about some sort of future danger, then how in the hell did he not know about this earlier?_

Sometimes, I wonder why I bother… but no matter. Heed my warning, stay alive and find me, okay?

 _How was he supposed to find a figment of his imagination?_

I'm not, so stop thinking that.

 _Then… what are you?_

Not tadpoles, that's for sure. But we've run out of time and you're going to die in around ten minutes, so I think you should go now.

 _Wait, what?_

Good luck, Naruto.

 _Wait!_

 _But, even as his mental shout echoed across the now-empty expanse of darkness stretching before him, he knew that the strange thing which had hijacked his mind– because, from what the tadpoles (or whatever they were) had said, they were definitely not part of him– was no longer there. As he glanced around and caught sight of dim yet eerily familiar teeth, his heart sank beneath him when he finally figured out where he was._

 _Because, if he was in his nightmare's mouth, then it was just about time for him to wake up._

 _And, if the tadpoles' warning was anything to go by… then this would be a cakewalk compared to whatever was waiting for him outside._

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 _Remember, reviews and messages keep me motivated, so shoot me your thoughts if you want me to keep going~_


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